Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

The wheels of history relentlessly crushed the fates of countless people, and thunderously entered the winter of 1968.

The Ministry of Heavy Industry building in Beijing.

The wind and snow outside continued, but the atmosphere inside the department was even more oppressive and eerie than it had been two years ago.

Two years is enough time to change many things. For example, Zhao Lichun, the once timid political secretary, has now become "Director Zhao," a figure of great respect in the Ministry of Heavy Industry compound—the deputy director of the Revolutionary Committee of the Ministry of Heavy Industry.

He wore a faded military overcoat with a red armband on his left arm, and his hair was longer than before, making him appear more somber. He successfully infiltrated the rebel faction using a self-inflicted injury tactic of "turning against his own side," and with extremely ruthless political maneuvering, he gradually sidelined Wu Qiang, who only knew how to shout slogans, and seized control of the department's personnel and file management.

But in the minister's office, where no official title was written on the doorplate but which was actually the core of the highest power in the entire Ministry of Heavy Industry, Zhao Lichun remained the most loyal and humble hunting dog.

Inside the office, Lin Yang stood in front of a huge map of China, his gaze coldly fixed on the Zhenbao Island area on the Sino-Soviet border.

In the past six months, the Soviet Union has amassed a million troops along the Sino-Soviet border, with armored units frequently crossing the border to provoke conflict, escalating border tensions. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder.

"Minister." Zhao Lichun locked the office door, walked quickly behind Lin Yang, and bowed slightly.

"Speak," Lin Yang said without turning around.

"Something's gone wrong." Zhao Lichun pushed up his glasses, a hint of barely concealed murderous intent flashing in his eyes. "The supreme directive issued yesterday, 'Educated Youth Go to the Countryside,' is now being rolled out in full force. I've got the personnel allocation list from the Municipal Revolutionary Committee."

"Did someone tamper with the list?" Lin Yang turned around, his deep eyes revealing no emotion.

Zhao Lichun nodded and took a document out of his briefcase, handing it to Lin Yang.

"Wu Qiang, whom I've already marginalized in the ministry, somehow got in touch with a radical leader in the city. They don't dare to directly target you, so they're trying to make trouble for your family. Lin Weidong and Lin Jianguo, these two kids have always been registered in Beijing, and they've both reached junior high school graduation age, meeting the criteria for being sent to the countryside."

Zhao Lichun pointed to two lines on the list, his voice as cold as ice: "They changed Weidong and Jianguo's assignment locations to the 703 High-Altitude Forest Farm of the Yichun Forestry Bureau in Heilongjiang. That place isn't for land reclamation at all; it's a death trap. The temperature is below minus thirty degrees Celsius year-round, there's a lack of medical care and medicine, and they have to do extremely strenuous logging work. They're trying to kill these two kids in a roundabout way to blackmail you into handing over core industrial quotas."

Lin Yang looked at the names of his son and nephew on the list, and the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, revealing a cruel sneer.

"Good, very good." Lin Yang casually tossed the list onto the table. "Those clowns, Wu Qiang and his gang, think that after lying low in Beijing for two years, I'm too weak to fight anymore."

Zhao Lichun immediately stepped forward: "Minister, with just one word from you, I'll have Wu Qiang drowned in the Yongding River tonight, and then change the allocation list. You don't need to bother with such a minor character."

"No." Lin Yang raised his hand, stopping Zhao Lichun's impulsiveness. "The crackdown is so strict right now. It's not worth exposing yourself for something like this. Besides, now that the highest directive has been issued, why should my son get special treatment? Lin Weidong is a soldier's son, not a flower raised in a greenhouse. He must undergo the baptism of blood and fire!"

Lin Yang strode to his desk and picked up the red secure telephone that connected directly to all the major military regions.

"They want my son to suffer in some harsh, cold place? Fine. Then I'll send them to a truly bitter, truly dangerous place, but one that will forge a backbone of steel!"

Lin Yang dialed the special line of Kong Jie, the commander of the Northwest Military Region.

"Brother Kong, I am Lin Yang."

On the other end of the phone, Kong Jie's deep voice immediately came through: "Yangzi! You finally called! Is there something going on up north?"

"Those Russians up north are restless; the border could be rife with gunfire at any moment. I need your help." Lin Yang's voice was incredibly calm. "My son, Weidong, and my elder brother's son, Jianguo, are both of age to be sent to the countryside. I don't want to leave them stuck in this quagmire of Beijing, and I certainly don't want them to go to the forest farms in the Northeast to deal with timber."

Lin Yang's eyes flashed with a chilling light: "Send them to the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps! I want you to plant them in that mechanized agricultural reclamation division at the forefront of the Soviet steel torrent! Don't give them any special treatment, let them learn to drive tanks, practice target shooting, and eat sand in the Gobi Desert! If the Russians really dare to attack, let the Lin family's sons die in the first trench!"

On the other end of the phone, Kong Jie remained silent for a full five seconds.

Then came Kong Jie's thunderous laughter: "Good! As expected of Lin Yang's son! Leave this to me! I'll immediately send a special envoy from the military region with an armed escort order to Beijing to pick them up. Anyone who dares to tamper with the list, my men will smash their teeth with rifle butts!"

After hanging up the phone, Lin Yang looked at Zhao Lichun.

"Go and make the arrangements. There's no need to hide the itinerary. Let Wu Qiang and those clowns from the courtyard go to the train station to watch. I want them to see with their own eyes how the descendants of the Lin family embark on this path."

……

Three days later. Courtyard house at No. 95, Nanluoguxiang.

This year, the courtyard house looked particularly dilapidated, with drafts leaking from the doors and windows of several households. Only the main room of the Lin family remained tightly shut, exuding an air of unassailable authority, even though the owner was not present.

Lin Weidong and Lin Jianguo, these two young men, were secretly brought back to Beijing from the Northwest by Lin Yang's men some time ago, to complete the necessary procedures. They are currently living in this main room.

In the courtyard, Liu Haizhong, with his hands behind his back and his back hunched, wandered around the pond like a ghost.

These past two years have been incredibly unlucky for Liu Haizhong. He excitedly went to Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill to replace Lin Fan as factory director, only to find himself facing a mess where all core equipment and technical personnel had been drained. After several months, not only had he failed to meet the special steel targets set by his superiors, but he hadn't even produced a few tons of ordinary pig iron.

When the investigation came down, Liu Haizhong was immediately dismissed from his post and charged with "sabotaging production." He was publicly criticized and denounced in the factory for a whole month. If he hadn't been old, he probably would have lost his life. Now, not only has he lost all his power, but his pension has also been withheld, and he can only make a living by pasting matchboxes in the yard.